


These Words Are Not Enough

by mousapelli



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Getting Together, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Mixtape, Phichit's questionable advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 20:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10171220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousapelli/pseuds/mousapelli
Summary: With fourteen time zones in between them, Leo and Guanghong find every way they can to cross the distance.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TereziMakara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TereziMakara/gifts).



> I ended up doing a ridiculous amount of research for this, largely by accident. All of the schedules, events, and medals listed in this fic, outside of what's directly in canon are based on the real life skaters that the characters are based on: Jason Brown for Leo, Jin Boyang for Guanghong, and Michael Christian Martinez for Phichit. Bless Kubo for using basically all the real details from the 2014-2015 season for the show, because I could not have made up 3 years of events and results on my own. Also this way I could go to youtube, see what they skated to and what they wore. This includes the broken ankle for Phichit, totally real. Sorry buddy! If you want some recommended viewing: Jason Brown's Riverdance and Jin Boyang's Tango Amore are at the top of my list. 
> 
> So I made mixtape for Leo, as you do, and then somehow instead of being short and quick nearly all the sections got away from me and I'm posting barely under the wire, so I hope my recipient enjoys this. Thanks to my two betas who kept having to reread sections I rewrote at the last second, and also have done nothing but listen to me whine about this for a week solid.

**Headphones - Matt Nathanson** (3:26)  
_Brave new world, same old crowd_  
 _Good things whisper, bad things shout_  
 _I feel invincible with my headphones on, it's all just noise to me_

 

Grand Prix events are always such a fuss. Leo isn't as nervous as he used to get, but it's still a bit overwhelming, too many people, too much bustle, cameras and reporters and people he's met once or twice and probably ought to know but can't keep straight, plus he actually has to, you know, skate, so it's a blur of adrenaline and anxiety knotted low in his stomach. He keeps his headphones in more than he ought to, not because he's trying to be anti-social, but to keep his head on his shoulders. He's third after his Short skate and focus is the key to staying on the podium.

But then he looks up and his coach is gone, swallowed up by the crowd while Leo wasn't looking. Leo hasn't heard if she's been calling him over the sound of his music, and he still doesn't hear her when he pulls them out. He scans the skaters and coaches around him, chewing his lip when she doesn't reappear right away. Is it better to stay put? Go looking?

While he's still trying to decide what to do, someone taps his shoulder. Leo turns and it's the kid from China who is currently beating Leo by not even four points. Ji? Ji something, he remembers. Ji smiles shyly, his bowl cut falling in his eyes, and points past Leo in the other direction. Leo heaves a sigh of relief when he spots the familiar lime green of his coach's coat.

"Thank you so much!" he tells Ji with a relieved smile, then rushes off. A few minutes later he has to chuckle when he realizes he's not even sure if the other boy speaks any English.

So it's not until the next day, when they're standing on the podium together, that they meet properly. His name is Ji Guanghong and his eyes are so wide, still in shock about the gold around his neck, and when he shakes Leo's hand, Guanghong's own is shaking.

"Thank you again for yesterday," Leo says. He's sure he sounds calmer than he actually feels about his own silver, but it hasn't really sunk in yet. It always takes Leo a while. "Is English all right?"

"Y-yes, some," Guanghong says. He can't hide behind his haircut in the same way, since he's on a higher step than Leo.

"I really liked your Free. I hope we can skate together again," Leo says, wondering if he's being too forward. The Japanese kid wearing the bronze is eyeing them out of the corner of his eye. "I have Turkey next. What about you?"

"Slovenia," Guanghong answers. Leo still can't read his expression.

"Good luck, then. See you at the finals?" Leo realizes he's still got Guanghong's hand trapped in his own, and drops it. "Maybe it's bad luck to say that, though."

"Good luck," Guanghong echoes. He hesitates, as if he wants to say something else, and Leo nods to encourage him. "Your skating…your spins are…" Guanghong wrinkles his nose, clearly unable to come up with the words for what he wants. He makes a motion with his hand, a graceful circle. "Nice. With your music. Uugh." Guanghong clicks his tongue in frustration. "My English, not so nice."

"Thank you," Leo says, because he gets it, enough. "Let's both do well this season, right?"

"Yes," Guanghong says, nodding firmly.

They do pretty well for themselves, if Leo says so himself. He earns a gold in Turkey, which is pretty damn good for a kid depending on choreography over jumps, earning him a place in the final. When he watches the TV coverage of Slovenia just to see how his American compatriots are doing, he's pleased to see Guanghong on that podium too, a perfectly respectable silver.

"His jumps are so light," he says to his coach the next day, holding out the clip on his phone. He's watched it at least half a dozen times, the triple combination near the beginning making his heart skip a beat every time. Leo wishes he could do that.

"Sounds like you think yours could use some work, then," his coach comments. Leo groans as he tucks his phone away.

In Sochi, Leo makes a point of going to find Guanghong during first practice time for the juniors, and telling him congratulations for making it to the Grand Prix. Guanghong repeats the congratulations back, smiling shyly but sneaking glances at his coach. Leo doesn't blame him; the Chinese coach looks stern, her mouth pressed in a thin line. She stands close enough to make it clear she's listening to every word.

"Your spins are _graceful_ ," Guanghong says, as if he's learned the word expressly to tell Leo this, and Leo feels flattered. "Smooth. I watched you." Guanghong reaches to tap a finger against the phone in Leo's hand, and Leo guesses he means on the internet. "Gold!"

"Me too, I watched for you," Leo says, grinning back. "So we're tied! One gold, one silver."

"You're winning," Guanghong pointed out, meaning their actual standings. He put his hands on his hips. "But tomorrow, watch!"

"No, you watch!" Leo laughs. They aren't rivals or anything like that but it feels good anyway. He does want Guanghong to watch, and he wants to show him something good.

Guanghong's coach says something sharp, and Guanghong's expression turns apologetic. Leo apologizes for being a distraction, which seems to appease her a little, and they exchange a small wave goodbye as they both turn to go. Leo finds his coach standing half a dozen steps away, looking as if she's been absorbed in her phone, but when Leo gets close enough, her smile is sly.

"He's _adorable_ ," she says.

"Shut up," Leo replies, no idea why that makes his cheeks heat up. His coach is a weirdo sometimes.

Neither of them medal in Sochi, and that never feels good, but being fourth out of all the skaters in the ISU junior division isn't the worst, Leo supposes, especially when Yuri Plisetsky could probably crack his skull on the ice three times over and still take gold. Guanghong is fifth, just behind him, and Leo lurks at the edge of the kiss and cry to tell him he should be proud.

Guanghong heaves a heavy sigh. "Less internet! More skating."

Leo cracks up. "Me too! Instagram?" Guanghong nods. Leo pulls out his phone, wanting to trade info before their coaches separate them. "Can I follow you?"

"Yes," Guanghong's expression turns shy again. "I found you. Already. Before?"

"That's fine," Leo assures him, trying not to grin like a creep. Seriously, who is this adorable kid? He finds his list of followers. "Ah, that's you right? There, all set. Hey, do I call you Ji or Guanghong? What's normal?"

"Guanghong for friends," Guanghong says. Leo sticks out a hand as if they're meeting for the first time, and it makes Guanghong smile so that his eyes crinkle.

"Hi again, Guanghong," Leo says as they shake hands. "I'm Leo."

"I know. Leo," Guanghong repeats carefully. His accent makes the vowels round and sweet, and it sticks in Leo's ears like a new song the whole way back to his coach.

"Don't start again!" he warns, pointing at her. She mimes locking her lips and throwing away the key, but she's grinning at him, and Leo heaves an aggravated sigh as he flops on the bench to strip his skates off.

 

**XOXO - EXO-M** (3:07)  
_Should I take courage and tell you?_  
 _My ugly handwriting, this embarrassing letter_  
 _These four words are not enough_

 

Everything about Junior Worlds is Leo's favorite this year. He's had such a good season, medals and all, that the pressure is nothing like at the start of the year; the anticipation buzzing under his skin is much closer to excitement than anxiety this time around. He's even feeling more confident about his triple axels, able to relax into them instead of chanting _shit shit shit_ in his head during the lead-up every time.

It doesn't hurt that Milan is much milder than the Chicago winter he's been otherwise enduring, and that he gets to fly out with Phichit. Phichit and he have become friends, or close enough to it, over the last year, both of them prolific SNS posters, but also less than a five-hour bus trip between Chicago and Detroit. Their coaches sit across the aisle, talking shop, but let the two teenagers sit together for the sake of everyone's sanity.

Phichit has a way of making everything fun, even a cramped plane trip, keeping Leo laughing with ridiculous stories about his perpetually awkward roommate.

"He can't be that bad," Leo protests as they share the cinnamon cookies his mother baked for them.

"He's worse, but I love him," Phichit says with affection, fiddling with his phone even though he can't upload anything from the air. "You'll see when you come up to seniors next year. Can you believe it's our last year in juniors?"

"Yes," Leo says with feeling. He can feel it in his hips and ankles and the shoulder he landed too hard on earlier in the week, feels too old to be skating with fresh-faced 13-year-olds who weigh nothing. "You could have gone up this year, right?"

Phichit nodded. "I'm already doing seniors at home, but Ciao Ciao thought another year would be better internationally. It'll be easier when Yuuri and I are in the same competitions, though. Now that we've left him alone, he'll just spend the next week working himself into a state about how terrible he is. I told him to come along! But we'll have fun, yeah? Let's go sight-seeing!"

"Yeah," Leo agrees, relieved to have a friend along this trip. It's nice.

While they're waiting for their luggage, Leo connects to the airport's wifi and a message pops up right away from Guanghong, saying that he's here and asking about Leo's practice schedule. They're trying out a new message app instead of broadcasting their plans over Instagram and Leo fumbles the buttons, accidentally sending a sticker of a cactus rather than an answer. Guanghong sends back a line of question marks, and Leo rolls his eyes.

"You and him are friends, right?" Phichit asks, reading shamelessly over Leo's shoulder.

"A little," Leo answers, attempting to type again. "Just online."

Phichit laughs. "What's the difference?" Leo shrugs, not sure himself what the difference is. They haven't made definite plans to meet up since they aren't exactly here to just hang out, but when Phichit says so casually they should hang out, Leo finds he wants to. Their bags appear just then, cutting off their conversation and keeping Leo's hands too busy for his phone.

Phichit and Leo have the same rink practice time that night, just a couple hours to get used to the space and to stretch out plane-cramped muscles, but Guanghong must have already come and gone at the earlier juniors timeslot since he isn't around. They have better luck in the hotel lobby when they're coming back, Guanghong hanging around awkwardly while his coach is speaking harshly on her phone, all but shouting at somebody in rapid Mandarin.

"Leo!" he says brightly when he notices Leo's waving. They trot towards each other but stop when they get close, in the awkward stage where shaking hands seems weird but hugging might not be okay. Guanghong's smile is warm though, glad to see him, and Leo sticks his hands in his jacket pockets and smiles back.

"Nice to meet you!" Phichit says, breaking up the awkward moment. "Phichit Chulanont. I see you on SNS sometimes, right?"

"I follow you," Guanghong says, a little embarrassed. Phichit laughs that it's fine, everybody should, because he's so cool, right? Guanghong snorts a little, but another minute and Phichit has both of them at ease, chattering about who else is here and what they should do for dinner.

"Oh, I…" Guanghong looks over his shoulder at his coach. Phichit elbows Leo sharply in the ribs.

"Do you want to come with us?" Leo blurts. "We aren't going far, and your coach can come if she wants? Ours are coming. You haven't ever been to Milan before, right? We should go out and see it."

"Um, I'd…like that…" Guanghong squares his shoulders. "Wait."

Leo and Phichit watch, trying not to laugh as Guanghong tries and fails to interrupt his coach's angry phone call. He finally has to step right in front of her face, hopping a little on his toes when she yells at him.

"Uwah, scary," Phichit says, and Leo nods fervent agreement. But to their surprise, she says yes, so long as she can come along, and so long as Guanghong doesn't eat his weight in pasta.

"Don't laugh!" Guanghong says, even though Phichit and Leo already are. "I weigh nothing! That's not even a bowl!"

Dinner is fun, a better distraction from tomorrow's skates than anything Leo would do himself in a hotel room. Guanghong starts off shy but Phichit is good at drawing him out, practice from the awkward roommate, no doubt. Phichit declares them official cousins after twenty minutes, and tells Leo to shut up when he says they don't come from the same country, or even speak barely one language in common.

"You'll never get it, white kid," Phichit teases. Guanghong is laughing behind his hand, gaze darting between Leo and Phichit like he's watching tennis.

"I'm Latino!" Leo protests.

"You grew up in an Illinois suburb, you might as well be Wonderbread," Phichit waves him off, then stage whispers to Guanghong that where he's from they'd call Leo a twinkie. Guanghong is nearly helpless with giggles, eyes bright like stars, and Leo balls up his napkin to bounce off Phichit's forehead, cheeks hot.

They're friends, real ones, by the end of the meal, Phichit announcing in no uncertain terms that they're exchanging contact info and taking a selfie. They squish Guanghong tight between them to fit in the frame, Guanghong smiling as big and warm as the feeling in Leo's chest.

[#skatebros #goingforgold #WATCHOUTMILAN] Phichit uploads it, tagging all of them, and Leo wishes he could like the picture ten times over.

They're inseparable for the rest of the competition, warming up together and standing at rinkside and waving across the ice. Leo feels light as a feather during his Short, Phichit and Guanghong's hollered voices like warm palms against his back as he skates to start position. He lands two triple axels in his Free as if he's been doing them all his life and ends up with silver around his neck.

"You were _amazing_ ," Guanghong tells Leo after the awards ceremony, smiling like he doesn't mind at all that he missed the podium by just twelve points, Phichit only another point behind him for fifth. Leo is sure they both do mind, a lot, but they've got their game faces on for him, and he loves them a lot for it.

"Graceful?" Leo asks, teasing gently.

"Yes," Guanghong agrees even as he rolls his eyes.

Phichit throws arms around their shoulders and squeezes them so tightly, Leo in the middle this time, Guanghong's arm sneaking around his back, and everything about Milan is his favorite this year.

The season isn't quite over after that, but after Worlds Leo has trouble remembering the details of anything else. After that it's practice and spring seeming to take forever to break in Chicago, Guanghong asking if they can Skype now and then to practice his English, and Phichit breaking his ankle so badly he can't skate for two months.

"So hey," Phichit says, sprawled across Leo's bed on his back. He's visiting for two weeks, because it only cost $20 for the bus ride from Detroit, and also because Celestino and Yuuri have been threatening to murder him already after barely three weeks of his skating ban.

Leo figures eventually he'll get worn out of having Phichit here as well, since Phichit is all energy with no outlet at the moment, but for now it's still fun, like a long sleepover, like summer camp. Plus Leo's mother and older sister adore making a fuss over Phichit, the house redolent with their baking. Leo's younger brother isn't any better, Phichit's starry-eyed fan from the moment Phichit pushed his Thailand national team FIFA hat onto his head, brim backwards.

"Hey?" Leo asks, eyes still on his homework. He's only going in the mornings, co-op schedule, but he still wishes he were done. Guanghong will probably quit soon, he's said, no compulsory reason to go, and Leo envies him the choice.

"You like Guanghong," Phichit says. It's not a question.

Leo freezes, pencil stuttering in the middle of an equation. When he looks up, Phichit's eyes are on him, dark and keen, like they see right through Leo. He looks calm about it, that Leo calms too. Now that the emotion in the center of his chest, the one he's been tiptoeing carefully around for weeks, has a name, of course that's what it is.

"Yeah," Leo agrees softly. Phichit nods. He's seen their last two Skype calls, and while it wasn't awkward to include Phichit in them, Phichit has more than enough people sense to see how it's been between Leo and Guanghong lately, to notice the way that Leo can tell him the time in Harbin any time he's asked.

"You gonna tell him?" Phichit asks. It's neutral, like he's not expecting a particular answer. He looks Leo up and down. "Or do you need to have a crisis first?"

Leo sets down his pencil, geometry a lost cause. "Should I have a crisis? I've never done this before, I want to do it right." His chest is tight with something like anxiety or adrenaline, but he feels distant enough from it that his voice still sounds like it's a joke. Is this happening?

Phichit cracks a smile. "If you can joke about liking another dude, you're past crisis point, yup."

"Nobody told me I had a window!" Leo says. Phichit is standing up, no weight on the broken ankle, and motioning impatiently. "What?"

"I'm hugging you, come on," Phichit coaxes. Leo stands up and lets him, Phichit's arms strong and tight around his back. Leo opens his mouth to say he doesn't need it, but chokes on the words because maybe he does need it. He squeezes Phichit tight around the waist and draws two deep breaths, three, before the worst of the tightness in his chest passes. "There you go, you're okay. It's all good."

"Thanks. Crisis averted." Leo can think more clearly again by the time Phichit pulls back to sit on the edge of the bed. Phichit shrugs, like it's nothing, and Leo wonders what it is about Phichit that makes him seem like the safe place to tell all your secrets to. "You're a good friend, you know?"

"I'm pretty great," Phichit agrees, not a trace of humility. "But you're easy, Iglesia, if all you needed was a hug."

"Guess I'm lucky," Leo shrugs, flipping his chair backwards to straddle it facing Phichit while they're talking. He doesn't want to rush right downstairs and tell his family, but he isn't exactly scared of it, either. His mother will still love him and his sister will still bake him cinnamon cookies. He's got it better than some, probably. "Anyway, it's never been a thing before. It might be…just Guanghong?"

"Isn't that enough?" Phichit laughs, leaning back on his wrists. "You should tell him."

"Do you think?" Leo squirms, feeling the blush creeping down the back of his neck. "He's so far away. Next year he'll still be in juniors. Isn't it hard enough just to be friends? Besides, he's…" Leo feels like it's not okay to say _Chinese_ like that's the problem. "It might not be so easy for him," he settles on.

"He gets to decide that himself," Phichit says. "He can't decide if you don't tell him. C'mon, you should. You two are so _cute_."

"Stop that, you're shameless," Leo grumbles, which is true. Phichit is always on about celebrity gossip, and the line between it being celebrities in magazines and skating celebrities that they have to look in the face doesn't pose Phichit any sort of moral quandary. Phichit lives for the cute hookup, the meet cute, the name squish. "He probably doesn't even…"

"He DOES," Phichit insists, with such a certainty that Leo pins him with a sharp glare. Phichit backpedals immediately, also incriminating. "I mean, you know, he seems like he does. When you two talk." Leo just keeps staring, feeling Phichit weakening. "Ah, shit, maybe I know something about it."

"Like what?" Leo asks, leaning forward against the back of his chair. It's going to tip if he's not careful.

"I can't say exactly," Phichit says primly; Leo half expects him to fold his hands in his lap. "Patient doctor confidentiality, you know. But let's just say that rink side during your Free, Guanghong was sighing over your physical attributes a lot more than your technical elements, so to speak."

"Phichit!" Leo protests, blushing furiously now. "Oh my god!"

"No shame, man, ice skating thighs are no joke." Phichit shrugs, grinning when Leo splutters more. "Anyway, you've got some time to decide. Better to say that kind of thing in person, so you've got at least until fall. And who knows if you'll even pull the same events?"

"Right," Leo agrees, frowning. They were lucky to hit most of the same events last year, but it would be hit or miss even without Leo moving into senior division. He realizes Phichit is grinning at him, sharp and sparkly, like Leo's a TV drama he's excited for. "Quit looking at me like that."

"But slow burn is the best!" Phichit laughs when Leo reaches out to take a swipe at him. "Come on, let me live vicariously through you, I couldn't ever be as cute as this is. You're so innocent! You're already blushing and we didn't even talk about anything scandalous, like Guanghong's cute little bu—"

"STOP," Leo begs, making Phichit dissolve into laughter so hard he curls up on his side. "Ugh, fuck you, I'm not telling you anything else."

"No, don't cut me off!" Phichit whines, still giggling. "Ohh, you should make him a mixtape!"

"What? Come on, that's embarrassing," Leo says, uncomfortable with how dead-on Phichit hit the nail on the head. He may or may not already have half a dozen songs on his phone explicitly for the reason that they make him think of Guanghong.

"Nah, it's cool again, it's back in," Phichit insists. He sits up and pats the space beside him on the bed. "Let me help you, please? If you make a playlist and then link him, he can add to it, too. It's totally borderline friends-to-lovers, it's perfect."

"Stop reading fanfiction, you weirdo," Leo grumbles, but he picks up his laptop and sits beside Phichit, listening to and rejecting songs on a pair of shared earbuds until Leo's sister sticks her head in and says it's time for dinner.

He links Guanghong the playlist the next time they're on Skype together, which means he can see the way Guanghong's eyes light up, the impatient scramble for his headphones so that he can hear better. Leo's heart squeezes in a way that's both pleasant and achy, and he wonders if he's even going to make it until fall when Guanghong looks at him like that.

 

**Stereo Hearts - Gym Class Heroes** (3:37)  
_I think I finally found a note to make you understand  
If you can hit it, sing along_

 

Guanghong takes gold at Riga, the Latvian time change meaning that when Leo jumps up and yells in victory, his sister pounds on the wall. Leo is full of too many emotions, pride and so much like and frustration that he can't be there, that he can't sleep at all. He texts Guanghong a congratulations and tells him to FaceTime whenever he can, no matter how late.

[I want to see you wearing the gold] he sends, regretting a second too late how suggestive that sounds. Leo rolls over and groans into his pillow, and his sister pounds the wall again.

It's three in the morning Leo's time by the time Guanghong calls, but Leo picks up on the first ring, already slipping out of his room and down the stairs, not trusting himself to be quiet.

"Leo!" Guanghong's face fills the screen just as Leo slips outside, trying to pull the door shut and yank on his coat at the same time. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are lit up so bright.

"Let me see, let me see!" Leo says, flopping onto the porch swing. It's freezing and he should have grabbed a blanket, but too late now.

Guanghong stretches out his arm as far as it will go, over his head where he's lying flat on his back on his hotel bed. The gold is bright against the red of Guanghong's Team China jacket, round and perfect like the moon above Leo's head.

"It's beautiful," Leo says, not at all sure Guanghong won't understand that what Leo's really saying is _you're beautiful_. "I watched the whole thing. You landed all your jumps!"

"We lowered the difficulty for early season," Guanghong says modestly. He looks exhausted, dark smudges under his eyes, but so happy. "I wish you were coming to Tallinn."

"Me too," Leo sighs, breath steaming in the air. "At least you'll have Phichit. You two have to call me, promise?"

"You'll be busy in Germany," Guanghong scolds. "Having your big fancy senior international debut. But we will. Promise." He yawns and rolls over, the hand holding his phone propped up on the pillows beside his head.

"You should sleep, aren't you flying out in the morning?" Leo coaxes. Guanghong groans.

"Better if I stay up at this point," Guanghong says, looking at the clock and whining piteously. "Shit, it's really late for you too, isn't it? I forgot the time difference wasn't the same as usual."

"I'm okay," Leo reassures. He's pretty sure Guanghong won't even make it another half an hour, and he's right, Guanghong drifting off in the middle of a story about one of the other Chinese skaters tripping off the kiss and cry.

Leo watches him sleep for a few minutes, the way relaxation slips over his features and tinges his cheeks pink, before he ends the connection. He stays on the porch swing a while longer, afraid to go back up to bed despite the cold, afraid of how easy it will be to imagine lying next to Guanghong in that hotel bed and seeing Guanghong's sleeping face for himself.

Tallinn is another gold for Guanghong, and Oberstdorf is a silver for Leo, so much a surprise that he cries when they announce the scores, all the pressure of his first senior competition crushing down on him at once.

"We saw you cry on the live stream!" Guanghong exclaims when they finally get a connection. He and Phichit are both laughing at him, and Leo whines, embarrassed and still emotional.

"Don't pick on me!" he groans. They don't stop, but they tell him they love him and they're proud of him. "I wish you guys were here."

"Next time," Guanghong promises. "In Fukuoka?" It's a longer shot for Leo to make senior division Grand Prix than it was last year in juniors, but he makes the snap decision that even if he doesn't make the cut, he'll go anyway.

He thinks his coach and his parents will tell him no, he's prepared to fight about it, but his coach says thoughtfully that maybe it's good for him to see what it's like. The pressure is all different, more, everything more. It's fine to already start preparing for next year's series.

"Besides, you're the third alternate, right?" his coach says brightly, as if she isn't teasing him, when they both know she is. "So anything might happen."

"Right, right," Leo agrees, already texting Guanghong that he's coming while his coach pretends not to see him doing that at all.

Leo watches all of the men's events, junior and senior division, trying to absorb everything about them, their music and their costumes and the stories that they tell. What story should he tell for next year, he wonders, already feeling like his is more childish than he wants even though he's stuck with it for the rest of the season. He sees Phichit's roommate and has to smile at how accurately Phichit had described Katsuki's awkwardness off the ice, but oh, when he skates he's beautiful, twisting through steps that take Leo's breath away. Leo hopes they can meet someday and that he can tell Katsuki how inspiring he is to someone like Leo, who depends on choreography in the same way.

He can't hang around as easily where Guanghong is since he's not competing, but Guanghong finds his eyes easily in the crowd just before his Free, somehow, and Leo grins warm and hopeful, waving and calling good luck. Guanghong seems satisfied as he turns away, shoulders relaxed.

Guanghong takes gold, his score only half a point above silver, and Leo yells so hard when the score posts that it hurts his throat. He's out of his seat like a shot, too fast for his coach to follow, tearing down towards where the skaters are without worrying how he'll get past anybody who tries to stop him.

He does get stopped, but there's a stroke of luck because one of the staff members recognizes him and winks him through, slyly handing him the clip pass from the edge of his coat. Leo's still fumbling the clip on as he trots through the crush of people, trying to figure out where he can be that he will see Guanghong sooner without causing any problems for him.

There isn't much of a wait in between the end of the scores and the podium being set up, but it's enough. Leo would know the height and slope of Guanghong's back from behind anywhere, and when Guanghong turns at the tap to his shoulder and sees it's him, he shrieks in glee and throws arms around Leo's waist. It's funny to hug Guanghong with his skates on and Leo's off, but Leo does it so tightly.

"Leoleoleo," Guanghong is babbling, half in English and half Mandarin, too excited for either to be intelligible. "You saw?!"

"I saw, you were amazing," Leo tells him, and oh they only have one more minute but Leo only wants to squeeze tighter, until neither one of them can even breathe. Without thinking he blurts, "I like you, I _like_ you."

Guanghong freezes for just a second, and then he's laughing, almost hysterical, shaking all over with it. He can't even answer before Leo has to let go and shove him towards his podium, and all Leo can do is stand on the edges, flashing hot and cold over and over because he can't believe he just did that.

"I'm such an _asshole_ ," he moans, slumped in a seat next to his coach while they wait for Guanghong to be done with enough of the things that maybe they can talk. His coach neither tries to soothe him nor even asks what he's going on about, having probably figured out enough that she doesn't want to know any more. "Oh my gooooood."

Later, so much later, in Guanghong's hotel room Guanghong tells him it's fine, that Leo can stop apologizing already. Of course he likes Leo too.

"O-oh," Leo says, blinking. He can't take it in, still flashing hot and cold. "What?"

"Leo!" Guanghong laughs, like it's so funny, grabbing Leo's hand and squeezing it tightly. "I like you, too." Leo squeezes Guanghong's hand back, helpless, just staring at him because he has no idea what to do now.

"I shouldn't have just blurted it out like that…" Leo's mortification hasn't died down at all.

"Did you think I didn't know?" Guanghong tilts his head. "You sent me a mixtape, come on."

"It was a playlist, and it was Phichit's idea," Leo grumbles, getting more flustered by the minute. Guanghong says that was his first mistake, definitely.

 

**Perfect - One Direction** (3:47)  
_if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms_  
 _And if you like going places we can’t even pronounce_  
 _Then baby, I'm perfect, so let's start right now_

 

For the next few weeks, confession doesn't change much. If anything they talk to each other less as they both focus on their own Nationals, and whenever Leo is tempted to wreck his sleep schedule with irresponsible Skyping, he thinks about how fierce Guanghong's domestic competition is and holds himself back. He doesn't want to be a distraction.

Guanghong has no such compunction. [hi good morning isn't your practice done yet????]

[nope] Leo replies with one hand while trying to uncap his water bottle with the other. [an hour jumps still then cool down. don't be late to yours]

[leaving soon. facetime during lunch please??] Guanghong puts a poutface emoji, and that's not fair at all.

[see you then] he promises, setting his phone face-down on the bench before he can get any more distracted. If he goes home and catches a quick nap, it shouldn't be the worst even with the fourteen hour difference. He misses Guanghong's face too.

It's such a nice face, Leo reflects when he answers the call with sleep-numbed fingers. Guanghong's still flushed from practice, his grin bright when the connection settles. "Hey, you." Leo has to talk quietly since it's the middle of the night. "How's practice? Ready for Nationals?"

"Ready!" Guanghong says firmly, and Leo doesn't blame him for sounding confident. This really has been Guanghong's year, a perfect finish to his junior division career. And anyway he's been doing seniors in his domestic competitions since last year, so there's nothing much for him to be worried about.

"I wish I felt ready." Leo smiles ruefully. "A few of the guys who moved up this year are really good."

"You'll be good too," Guanghong says staunchly, which at least makes Leo smile. "I'll definitely watch."

"Can you? Aren't you supposed to have the Great Firewall over there?" Leo asks. He's never thought to question Guanghong's internet habits before, somehow.

"I know things," Guanghong says shiftily, making Leo snort. Then Guanghong makes a funny face. "Um. I mailed you. Things."

"Things?" Leo squints at Guanghong's guilty face. "What sort of things? And how did you get my address?"

"Phichit," Guanghong tattles. "I wanted to surprise you, but after I sent it I started feeling…less cute. More weird."

Leo has no idea what's going on. "Should I not open it in front of my mom?" He wiggles his eyebrows, completely over the top.

"It's not like that!" Guanghong protests, cheeks going pink. "It's all silly. I don't know what I'm doing! I just wanted…" Guanghong gets a hold of himself, like he usually does if Leo doesn't interrupt. "I wanted something to be different. Now."

"Because it doesn't feel that different?" Leo asks. Guanghong nods. "Yeah. All right. Can I send you something back?" Guanghong murmurs that Leo doesn't have to, despite it being transparently clear that he definitely wants that. "After I get yours, I will. Email me your address? I'll have to print it, there's no way I can do the characters."

"I hope it gets there before Nationals," Guanghong says, biting his lip.

It does, barely, arriving the morning before Leo is set to fly out. The box has a small jar of folded puff stars, making Leo smiles imagining Guanghong folding so many of them, and an inexpertly tied bracelet of red cord with a Feng Shui coin tied in the middle. Leo ties it on, the metal cold against the pulse point on the inside of his wrist. He thinks about Guanghong taking gold at Nationals for the first time and wishes fiercely he'll be able to show Guanghong something nearly as good in return.

Silver's pretty good, he guesses.

"Silver is great!" Guanghong scolds a week later, on their FaceTime date to watch Four Continents. Neither of them is competing this year, but Phichit is, and they promised faithfully to watch, if only their live streams would cooperate.

"Somebody cute sent me a good luck charm, so I couldn't waste it," Leo teases, holding up his wrist where it's still tied. He doesn't wear it all the time, but this morning he'd slipped it on thinking about seeing Guanghong's face later.

"I wore it to Nationals last year," Guanghong explains. "Even though I didn't win, I thought it still might be lucky for you since I made it myself."

Leo chuckles. "Wait a second! You sent it to me, I got silver and you got gold! Are you sure you didn't just mail your less good luck to me?"

"That's not how it works!" Guanghong laughs. "Mean. Oh, mine FINALLY loaded. We didn't miss Phichit, did we?"

"Nah, it's the Kazakhstan guy still," Leo reports, glancing to the other tab he has the schedule pulled up. "Do they even skate there?"

"This guy definitely does," Guanghong whistles. "Maybe I should stay in juniors."

Just in case he needs the luck, a few days later Leo has his sister refresh his memory how to make the braided friendship bracelets he remembers her making in middle school. It takes him a few tries to get one that's presentable, red and gold zig-zags with a sharpied "L + GH" on the inside where it will rest against Guanghong's wrist, where no one will know about it but him.

Leo hopes it brings Guanghong all the luck he deserves for his last Junior Worlds.

 

**Fuego - Juanes** (3:06)  
_Look how well we get along_  
 _you're the most beautiful thing from corner to corner_  
 _from the ground up_

 

"I have a surprise," Guanghong says on Skype, and it must be good because he can't sit still, fidgeting and kicking his feet as he sprawls on his stomach on his bed. "I'm training in Canada this summer."

"Where?!" Leo demands, leaning forward, not that it matters. No matter where it is, Leo is definitely coming to visit if they're on the same continent. "When? How long?"

"Toronto," Guanghong says, and then before Leo can answer, adds, "and then Detroit!"

"WHAT?" Leo jumps to his feet in excitement, which is stupid because he can't see Guanghong's face on the laptop screen and also bangs his knee on the desk, but he barely feels it as he drops back down and leans in closer to his screen. "That's not in Canada, you idiot!"

Guanghong is laughing in delight at Leo's reaction. "Surprise! My coach thinks it would be good if I did some training abroad this summer since I'm moving up divisions. Phichit had Celestino talk to her about how he moved rinks, and he has some other connections, I guess?"

"Tell me everything," Leo demands, reaching to squish the pad of his finger against the pixels that make up Guanghong's cheek.

"Toronto for six weeks, and that part is the _serious business_." Guanghong deepens his voice into his impression of his coach being stern. " _No fooling around time_. But then Detroit for three, and can you come? Like training camp! Phichit's coming back from Thailand for the same weeks as I'm there."

"Oh my god," Leo mutters, his heart going tight with how much he wants to do exactly that. He's already texting Phichit about what a fucking _asshole_ he is for not giving Leo a heads-up that they were plotting without him, missing half the letters in his words because he can't tear his eyes away from Guanghong beaming hopefully at him.

"I really want to see you," Guanghong says, and Leo's tongue ties itself in a knot, his face going pink across the nose as he nods.

[wtf 'duck toy plan with guava' ????] Phichit texts back. [r u drunk dude]

Having Guanghong in Toronto is both exciting and excruciating, so close but not close enough. Just having Guanghong in the same timezone feels like a miracle, but it's a good thing because Leo's only gotten permission from his coach and his mom to use up three weeks of his off-season in Detroit if he's on his best behavior leading up to it. It's a lot easier when the reason he's usually on Skype at four in the morning is on the same side of the world as him for a change.

The bus ride to Detroit is five hours, but seems to last twenty years at least. Leo gives up on the book he brought after half an hour and just presses his forehead against the window glass, the playlist he and Guanghong have been building for months as loud as his headphones can make it. He feels like there's a bowl in the center of his chest, sloshing with impatience every time the bus takes a highway curve too sharply.

Phichit and Guanghong are both waiting for him inside the bus terminal, and Leo doesn't even remember taking the last dozen steps before Guanghong is hugging him so tightly he can barely breathe. Leo's sure Phichit is taking thirty pictures of them at least, but he doesn't care; it's all he can do not to swing Guanghong in a circle like they're in a Korean drama airport scene.

"Okay, okay," Phichit says, as if he's going to break them up, but what he really wants is to be in the middle of the hug himself. He looks like he hasn't been to sleep yet since his flight from Thailand, hair wild and rings under his eyes, but his grin is the same as ever, wide and careless. Leo's missed Phichit fiercely since went back to his home rink in the spring. "Come on, let's get out of here."

They're borrowing an apartment from a college friend of Phichit's; she's doing a summer immersion program in Madrid and said they're welcome to use anything in the apartment so long as they water the plants and lock the door when they go out. She's only got a double bed, though, and Phichit puts on his mom face as he tells Leo and Guanghong that there's no way he's sleeping on the couch while the two of them get up to anything _untoward_.

"I'll take the couch," Leo chuckles, poking Guanghong in the cheek where he's flushed pink, cutely flustered. "You two can share the bed. You're cousins or something, right?"

It's not exactly a vacation, Celestino keeping them busy for hours at the rink plus more hours of conditioning, but Leo finds being coached by someone different an interesting experience. He'd put up with a lot worse to have Phichit and Guanghong so near; they help each other stretch and borrow deodorant and argue in the grocery store about how many bananas they can eat in a week until Leo realizes the lady next to them is giving them the beady eye.

"It's gross when they get soft at the end!" Guanghong is insisting loudly. Leo meets Phichit's gaze, face pinched, and Phichit laughs so hard he doubles over leaning against the bin of pineapples. "What? You guys are weirdos!"

It's surreal to have Guanghong so close, Leo startling every time he comes around a corner and Guanghong is right there. Phichit cheerfully calls himself the third wheel, but Leo is glad for his presence because for all the months Leo and Guanghong have been 'dating,' they don't have much of an idea of what to do with each other in physical space. Guanghong holds out his hand when they go out to find dinner that first night, and Leo worries for a block and a half about whether his palm is too sweaty before he relaxes into it.

For the first few days, Leo is hesitant even about small touches, relationship anxieties heightened by the understanding that he often wants to touch people more than he ought to or stands too close because that's how things are in his family. He's learned over time to watch body language so that he can stop himself if he starts to get intense, but the culture difference makes Guanghong's social cues more uncertain. Fortunately Phichit is a good buffer in this way as well, full of casual touches for both Leo and Guanghong, and his personal space bubble might actually be smaller than Leo's. In no time at all it feels normal for the three of them to be flopped in a lazy heap on the couch or squished in tight enough on the bed to all watch Leo's laptop.

It doesn't escape Leo's notice, on the other hand, that Phichit almost always arranges them with either Leo or Guanghong in the middle, nudging them closer together if there's too much breathing room in between.

"You're shameless," Leo mutters to Phichit when he tugs Leo's arm off the back of the couch and puts it around Guanghong's waist. Guanghong is out cold, blissfully unaware of how Phichit is slowly but steadily edging him nearly into Leo's lap.

"You love it," Phichit says breezily. He's got more than half the couch to himself this way, and he stretches out luxuriously. "Besides you two are cute as hell but so _slow_. What kind of teenagers are you?"

"Go kiss a hamster," Leo grumbles, trying to shift Guanghong so he doesn't wake up twisted like a pretzel. Guanghong murmurs something in his sleep about quads.

A few days after that Phichit realizes Leo and Guanghong haven't even kissed yet, and laughs for a solid three minutes.

"How were we supposed to do it, huh?!" Leo demands, flushed with irritation and embarrassment. He doesn't dare look at Guanghong's expression even though they're sitting next to each other on the couch. "Was I supposed to lick my phone?"

"You've been here a WEEK," Phichit gasps.

Leo and Guanghong look at each other, Guanghong looking just as ruffled and embarrassed as Leo feels. Leo's never felt like kissing anybody less in his life.

"We don't have to…" he starts, but trails off when Guanghong's expression tenses. Phichit hops off the couch, giving them some space, which is the least he could do given that he started this in the first place.

"Do you not want to?" Guanghong asks.

"No, I do!" Leo says quickly, wanting to wipe the worried arch of Guanghong's eyebrows away with his thumb. "I just want it to be nice. Not to push you just because you're here."

"Would you push a little?" Guanghong says, some exasperation leaking through. "We aren't going see each other that much, so waiting for perfect stuff isn't that good an idea, is it?"

Leo doesn't know what to say to explain, so he tugs Guanghong in for a hug. Guanghong is tense for a few seconds, but then he huffs a sigh and goes slack against Leo's chest. He'll kiss Guanghong when he's good and ready, and not because Phichit is probably running a betting pool on them.

When Phichit comes back, he finds them curled up on the couch watching a movie, Guanghong tucked under Leo's arm. Phichit flops into the seat on Guanghong's other side, ruffling his hair. It's still comfortable to have him there with them, even though things are the slightest bit different.

At least until Phichit says slyly that he might be willing to take the couch a night if they asked him reeeeally nicely. Leo tells him to fuck off; Guanghong gives him one last goodnight hug before they go to bed, clinging but still innocent. Leo's glad he doesn't push it because he doesn't feel anything like ready.

It happens two days later anyway, without any planning, which is how Leo knows it's the right thing. They're tying on their skates next to each other on the bench, Guanghong humming a Kpop riff that Leo's going to have stuck in his head for a month after this, and when he turns to see if Leo's done, his mouth is right there.

Leo lifts a hand to cup Guanghong's cheek, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. He's pretty sure Guanghong knows exactly what's about to happen. "Okay?"

"Just do it," Guanghong says, voice breathless, so Leo does. It's weird and sweet and nice, kissing Guanghong, better when Guanghong twists fingers in the front of Leo's T-shirt and leans into it. As soon as it stops, Leo wants to do it again.

"Am I doing it right?" Leo whispers. Guanghong mutters something in Chinese, exasperated, and kisses him again. Eventually they stop, grinning shyly at each other from too close up.

"Are we gonna practice?" Phichit stage-whispers from the edge of the ice, leaning his elbows on the barrier to watch them shamelessly. Leo buries his face in his hands, and Guanghong throws a skate guard at Phichit.

It's different after that, a slow simmer under Leo's skin that turns up half a degree every time they sneak more kisses beside the rink or first thing in the morning or any time Guanghong looks up at Leo. His eyes are one of Leo's favorite parts, the brown expressive; in person Leo's learning to read what Guanghong is thinking by his eyes alone, impossible over a stuttering digital image.

"What?" Leo asks, nudging Guanghong's shoulder with his own. They're out for ice cream too late at night, unwise all the way around but delicious, and Guanghong's gaze is amused over the edge of his waffle cone.

"It's like a real date," Guanghong says. He's teasing, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"It IS a real date," Leo corrects, and he leans over to kiss Guanghong's cheek soundly, leaving a smudge of chocolate. "Hey, take a picture with me." They face-squish easily after weeks of practice with Phichit, Guanghong giving a peace sign with the hand not clutching his ice cream. They look so happy, Leo's chest twisting pleasantly with the feeling as he examines the shot.

"Post it," Guanghong says, scrubbing at the chocolate on his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Are you sure?" Leo asks. It looks like exactly what it is, a date. Leo could have taken a shot of him kissing Guanghong's cheek and it wouldn't be more obvious than this one is.

Guanghong meets Leo's eyes evenly, a smile curling just the corner of his mouth. He's sure.

[The sweetest thing in Detroit] Leo captions it, and it's tough to tell whether Guanghong is more delighted with him, or with the shitstorm of likes and comments that start immediately.

 

**Where my Love Goes (the Ironic Remix) - Lawson** (3:48)  
_When I put my pen to paper, feels like it brings us closer_  
 _Even when you're so far away_  
 _Bullet trains and aeroplanes, so I'll send a signal just for you_

 

Leo thought taking Guanghong to the airport would be the hardest part, and it was impossibly hard, having to let go from that last hug and watch him wind through airport security. It all sucked, the last wave Guanghong had given from far away, and the hours of silence during the flight, and the bus ride home from Detroit where every so often Leo would smell just a bit of Guanghong still on his shirt.

But the actual hardest part is having to go back to normal, fourteen hours time difference and only snatches of time they can both carve out. Now that he can read what Guanghong is feeling more easily from his eyes, Leo isn't sure that he wants to if it means he can look right through Guanghong's smile and see how much he hates this too.

Leo copes, as he usually does, with music.

"It made me think of you," he says, watching for Guanghong's reaction after clicking the link.

"You say that about everything," Guanghong rolls his eyes a bit, but Leo can see he's pleased about it as usual. "You know I don't understand a word of this."

"Not important," Leo says airily. He does understand the Spanish in this particular instance, but he isn't bothered when he can't understand the language, so long as the feel is right. "It's the guitar, it's like when you jump. Fast and light, with a lot of momentum."

"Ugh, you." Guanghong clicks around for a moment, eyes elsewhere on his screen. A link pops up on Leo's end to another video. "There. It's my Free. Tell me what you think?" Guanghong's expression is pinched, which means he already thinks it's not that good.

"The one based on the movie, right?" Leo tries to be charitable, and he does love watching Guanghong skate, but he can't say he's with Guanghong's coach on this one either. "Sorry, I just can't picture you as a tough assassin."

"Right?!" Guanghong flings his arms out to the side in indignation. "She wants me to have a more adult image this season. I told her I should just bleach my hair!"

Leo snorts a laugh. "I think I'd like to see that."

Two weeks later Guanghong signs on with a new layered haircut, bleached a few shades lighter than his eyes, and Leo really shouldn't be surprised when he falls half in love all over again.

"I can't wait to see it for myself," Leo tells him, his vocal approval making Guanghong squirm.

"You're one to talk, Ponytail," Guanghong mutters. Leo shrugs like it's no big deal, but the truth is that he's been letting it grow ever since Guanghong commented that it's cute how it gets curly as it gets longer. "Anyway, my Free. The elements are set but I thought…can you help? You're so much better with choreography."

"I'd love to help," Leo says. He doesn't think he can make Guanghong look like a hardened assassin, but he'd do anything Guanghong asked him to. "Maybe it would help if I've seen the movie."

"Ohh, let's watch it together!" Guanghong lights up right away, always a sucker for shared movies even when 'together' only really means 'basically at the same time.' "Sometime this weekend? I have a rest day, so I can stay up later before."

"It's a date," Leo promises.

 

**Radio - Hot Chelle Rae** (3:04)  
_I stayed up till 5, last night, just to say I missed ya,_  
 _thank God for free wifi, and the key to the mini bar,_  
 _we fell asleep on Skype, I almost missed my flight_

 

"Do you ever think about how weird the internet is?" Leo asks. He's lying on his back in bed, laptop on his chest the only light in his room. When he stays up too late like this, so late it's almost early instead, he gets a little philosophical.

"I think about how weird _you_ are," Guanghong says.

"When my dad was in college in California, he couldn't even afford to call my mom on the phone hardly ever," Leo goes on. It's a thing he thinks about sometimes, how the distance between them is both crushingly huge and impossibly short at the same time. "Can you imagine trying to do this if we couldn't even hear each other's voices?"

"Leo," Guanghong says. He says it a particular way when he thinks Leo is being ridiculous but adorable. "I learned nearly all the English I know from the internet. Forget talking on the phone, if we didn't have the internet, we couldn't even _talk_." Guanghong pauses. "I guess I could still lust after your body, though."

Leo has to muffle his laughter with his hand, shaking with it.

"Did she hate it?" Guanghong asks, and it takes Leo a second to connect that Guanghong is asking about the story of his parents.

"I've never asked," Leo answers honestly. It's just part of the story of their family, one his parents have told him and his siblings since childhood; Leo's never thought to ask his mother how she felt about it.

"I didn't love it," Leo's mother tells him when he brings it up the next day. He's helping her chop vegetables, the repetitive task for his hands helping ease the small anxiety he has about bringing it up, because she must know why he's asking her about it. "My mother said he wasn't nearly cute enough to wait so long." She pauses, eyeing Leo as if judging whether he's old enough for the rest. "And then she'd say he was probably getting it from lots of other girls out in California, you know, _those_ kinds."

"Mama!" Leo gasps, scandalized by both his mother _and_ his grandmother. "She did not!"

"She did!" Leo's mother laughs easily now, and Leo thinks of the pictures he's seen of her in college, flared jeans and peasant blouses and hair teased into such curls. "She was worried about me. She knew it would be hard, and it was. Should I be so worried about you?"

"Not about Guanghong and trashy girls," Leo says without thinking, and then flushes dark red. His mother loses it, laughing so hard tears gather on her lashes.

"He is very cute, I don't know," she teases, making Leo whine. "He has a fan club, I'm sure, like you do. Don't those girls throw underwear on the ice sometimes?"

"Seriously, stop! He gets mostly teddy bears." Leo rolls his eyes. He stops chopping, knife just touching the cutting board. "The schedule's out. Guanghong pulled Skate America, like me."

"So you're bringing him home, right?" Leo's mother always does cut right to the heart of a question that Leo is skirting around. "I want to meet this boy who's so cute he can make you think about something besides music. But maybe we'll wait to introduce him to grandmama, because she'll have a _lot_ of questions for the two of you."

"Mamaaaaa," Leo wails, horrified and pleased. Guanghong looks the same when Leo tells him the news the next day, happy and anxious and excited, hugging his knees to his chest.

"What if they don't like me?" he asks, twisting his fingers in the hems of his pajama pants.

"What if you don't like them?" Leo asks the opposite question. "I'm the quiet one, you know. They're LOUD. They're gonna poke you and tease you and ask you all kinds of embarrassing questions about us."

"We haven't done anything I'd be embarrassed to tell them yet," Guanghong points out, making both of them blush awkwardly. "Ah, I meant…"

"Maybe we can fix that at Skate America?" Leo interrupts, because apparently this is the week for him to boldly go where no Leos have gone before. "Maybe some. If you want? I wasn't ready before, but now, maybe."

"All right," Guanghong says shyly. He's all but hiding behind his knees, but his eyes are sparkling, and Leo wants to kiss him so badly it _hurts_. "Since I'm supposed to be working on my adult image."

"I like your image the way it is," Leo tells him, heart skipping with nerves and affection. "But you can keep the hair. At least until I can get my hands in it."

"Ugh," Guanghong grumbles, embarrassed and pleased. "Go make a playlist about it, you."

 

**Rhythm of Love - Plain White T's** (3:55)  
_And long after I've gone, you'll still be humming along_  
 _And I will keep you in my mind_  
 _till the morning sun, you're mine_

 

Skate America is the first event to use the new regulations about songs with lyrics, and Leo is so excited to skate to a song that he loves that he feels like he might vibrate right of his skin.

"Calm down!" his coach scolds him while she's trying to check them into the hotel and Leo is drumming his fingers on the counter. "I'm going to make you run around the block!"

It doesn't help that Guanghong just texted that he's boarding his connecting flight, everything on time, fingers crossed, which means it's only five more hours until they're in the same time zone. Of course Leo's scheduled rink time is in direct conflict with Guanghong's arrival, one last minor annoyance, but Leo can make it just a little bit longer.

Even if that little bit longer feels like it's taking _five hundred years._

By the time Leo's done with his rink time and hustles through changing, Guanghong's left him a message that he's arrived at the hotel safely. Leo has wings on his feet as he jogs back from the venue, bouncing on his heels as he waits for the elevator in the lobby. When the elevator door slides open on Guanghong's floor, Guanghong is standing right in front of it, making both of them yelp in surprise. Guanghong throws himself at Leo, nearly spilling them both to the ground, and Leo squeezes him tight enough to feel Guanghong's waist even through both of their puffy coats.

"I'm so glad you're here," Leo says. Guanghong's coach doesn't look nearly so glad, and Leo and Guanghong separate sheepishly.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Guanghong asks when they're sitting on his hotel bed after dinner. Eventually his coach is going to come and pound on the door, more than familiar with how the two of them tend to keep each other up until all hours of the night, so they haven't done much more than trade a few shy kisses.

"YES," Leo exclaims, too amped to get this show on the road already. "This part's the worst, you know? Waiting. Once it starts, I can calm down, but…"

"I know about waiting," Guanghong says, laughing softly. "I'm nervous, so I don't really want to think about it. Let's both do well tomorrow."

"Hm, good luck kiss," Leo teases; Guanghong gives in easily enough.

Most of the next day is a blur of adrenaline, but once Leo is on the ice, his head clears. It's always been like that with him and the ice and music, something he can lose himself in. He can never shake all of his competition nerves, but Leo thinks he's put together a program he can be proud of this year, and he wants to show everyone what he's made.

"You were amazing," Guanghong tells Leo as soon as they have two seconds to themselves, and it's not even really to themselves, so much as that everybody else who hasn't gone yet is ignoring them in favor of keeping their muscles warm or having their panic attack, whatever they all do.

"You were too," Leo says, and he means it. It's taking everything in him not to pin Guanghong to the wall and kiss him senseless, adrenaline clouding all of his judgement. It doesn't stop his mouth, though. "If you medal, I'll let you do anything you want to me."

"Leo!" Guanghong gasps, eyes going wide. He glances to the side to make sure nobody overhears. "It's bad luck to talk about the podium. But hypothetically, what if we both medal?" Guanghong looks shy but entirely interested. So much for not having an adult image, but Leo supposes it's fine if he's the only one who sees it for what it is.

"I have a few ideas," Leo says. It's too much, Guanghong pushing him away, giggling. Far be it from Leo to ever wish that time would speed up when the two of them are together, but suddenly it can't be the Free skate fast enough, in Leo's opinion.

 

**Shape of You - Ed Sheeran** (3:55)  
_We push and pull like a magnet do  
Last night you were in my room, and now my bedsheets smell like you_

 

After so much distance, having an abundance of time with Guanghong is overwhelming.

Something's changed between them since Skate America, their relationship more tangible, or maybe both of them have grown into it, Leo doesn't know. But this time there's no question of anyone staying on the couch, and Leo can barely sleep for not wanting to miss a second of Guanghong's warmth curled up against him.

They try to jam in every stereotypical date possible, the list far longer than they could ever manage even if they had a month instead of just over a week. They bake cookies with Leo's sister, see a horror movie, go out for burgers. Leo bundles Guanghong into the car the first night it's clear and they drive out of the suburbs, away from the city, out far enough that they can park the car next to a field and stare up at the sky together. If they face away from Chicago, the light pollution isn't the worst.

"There's so many!" Guanghong marvels, because he's a city kid and even being able to count more stars than fingers is impressive to him. He's wearing Leo's Blackhawks sweatshirt against the cold, and Leo likes that more than any piece of spandex Guanghong's ever worn, no matter how form-fitting. "Leo, you're staring."

"Uh-huh," Leo agrees, because he is. Guanghong bumps his shoulder into Leo's.

"We didn't have to drive the whole way out here just for you to look at me," Guanghong points out.

"The stars are always there, they've been there billions of years." Leo shrugs. "You're only here a little while."

"Gross," Guanghong says, delighted. "Kiss me?"

Leo does. They make out on the hood of the car until they're shivering from cold, get milkshakes on the way home from the 24-hour drive thru, and then have to sneak into Leo's house at two in the morning, both of them shushing each other on the stairs. They kiss a lot more in Leo's room, which is much nicer now that they're warm. Guanghong discovers that if he tugs out Leo's hair elastic and works his fingers in deep enough, Leo melts into a whining, uninhibited puddle.

"I think I'm in love with you," comes spilling out of Leo's mouth when Guanghong tugs just right, and Guanghong goes still.

"You are?" Guanghong asks carefully. Leo's cheeks are burning but he nods. "Good. I don't want anyone else. I don't want to leave."

"Don't talk about it yet," Leo says, distracting both of them with more kissing.

In the morning they're bleary-eyed and sugar hungover from going so far off their approved diets, and Leo's mother says she has no sympathy for people who come trooping in like elephants at two in the morning, but she does make them pancakes. Guanghong's hand slides into Leo's under the table, fingers tacky from syrup where they're twined together, and Leo starts thinking about whether he can somehow make a routine out of exactly the feeling expanding in his chest, as if he's bread dough rising in the warm kitchen.

 

**Dile Que Tu Me Quieres - Ozuna** (3:47)  
_I don't want to hide it, I want to have you close to me_  
 _I spoke to your mother even though I know how difficult that is_  
 _You know better than anyone the way I'm with you_

 

It's only fair, Leo insists, that since Guanghong has stayed with him in the States, that Leo should come to meet Guanghong's family too. Leo's been practicing what little polite Chinese he's managed to pick up, despite Guanghong's "help" consisting mostly of making fun of his accent.

" _Sorry to trouble you_ ," he tries. He makes an exasperated face when Guanghong laughs. "Stop it! I'm already nervous!"

"Sorry!" Guanghong giggles. "It's just that with your accent, it makes it sound more like…" Guanghong lays a hand on Leo's chest and blinks up at him suggestively with coy eyes. "Sorry I'm so much _trouble_." He dissolves into helpless giggles when Leo squawks his protest. "Don't worry so much. My mom already likes you…"

Guanghong's expression goes a little stiff; Leo reaches up to cover Guanghong's hand with his own where it's still resting on his chest. "Hey. Something wrong?"

"No." Guanghong tries. Leo continues looking until Guanghong sighs out his nose. "She's gonna know. When she sees you in person, she'll know."

"Oh. About us?" Guanghong nods. Leo knows Guanghong is close with his mother especially, but he would have thought if it were a real problem they would have talked about it when Leo suggested visiting, weeks ago. "She doesn't know already?"

"Mm," Guanghong's hum doesn't mean anything exactly, maybe yes and maybe no. "She sees me text you and send you pictures. She hears me talk about you so much. But it's not an issue until she sees it with her own eyes, you know? Not real until then."

"Tell me what to do?" Leo says, pulling Guanghong into more of an actual hug. "I don't want to be a worry."

Guanghong heaves a sigh, deep from his chest, and his shoulders relax, just like he calms his own nerves before a competition sometimes. "Just be you. That's all I want."

Leo has brought wine for Guanghong's parents and candy for his little sister, and it's a little awkward but mostly fine. There's a tense few minutes where Guanghong's mother calls him into the kitchen to help with tea and the door does nothing to hide the rapid, harsh discussion they're having while Leo and Guanghong's father stare at the carpet. Guanghong's mother wants to know all about Leo when she's back in the room, though, asking about school and his family and his home rink and his season, Guanghong translating for them when they get stuck.

"Everything all right?" Leo asks when they've finally been sent up to Guanghong's room. Leo looks around curiously at Guanghong's cluttered bric-a-brac, the space familiar from Skype but different to stand in. "I heard you arguing through the door."

"It's all right," Guanghong assures, but he leans in for a hug that Leo gladly gives. "I was more scared than I thought, I guess. I'm glad you were here. Hey, Leo?"

"Hm?" Leo smooths Guanghong's hair out of his eyes. Guanghong's chewing on his lower lip, and Leo uses his thumb to tug it free. "Stop that."

"I love you, too. I'm sorry I didn't say before, when you did." Guanghong smiles sheepishly. "I feel the same as you, probably, but I didn't feel like I could say it before. But you came all the way here, so I wanted you to hear it."

"I understood you fine," Leo assures. He leans down to kiss Guanghong firmly, gathering him in close to soothe away the rest of his nerves from before.

It's sweet to kiss Guanghong in his own room for once, until his sister throws open the door with a bang and nearly gives Leo a heart attack.

 

**Gone Gone Gone - Phillip Phillips** (3:30)  
_You're my backbone, you're my cornerstone_  
 _You're my head start, you're my rugged heart_  
 _You're the pulse that I've always needed_

 

This time Leo has no shame at all about swinging Guanghong around in an ecstatic circle as soon as he finds him in the O'Hare arrivals lobby, Guanghong giggling helplessly.

"Teach me to tango," Guanghong demands, the first thing out of his mouth as soon as Leo stops squeezing him too hard to breathe.

Leo splutters a laugh, because they only have the weekend until Guanghong is due in Toronto for summer training. "What?"

"Your parents know how, right?" Guanghong's eyes are sparkling with some kind of mischief that he won't let Leo in on quite yet. "I remember you telling me."

That's how they end up spending their Saturday night in Leo's living room with the couch pushed back, his parents teaching them the tango, samba, and the bolero. Leo's parents put the rest of them to shame easily, Leo and his siblings begging until his father shows them his paso doble. It's a little awkward to have his father encouraging Guanghong to be more masculine as he teaches him the steps, but Leo can forgive anything while Guanghong is out of breath from laughing in between stomps and spins.

So it's not altogether shocking when Guanghong takes another gold at Chinese Nationals with his sharp, smooth "Tango Amore" routine.

"It's really annoying how you keep making me fall in love with you over and over," Leo says with some exasperation when Guanghong FaceTimes him from his hotel room.

"Leo! You're totally annoying too," Guanghong says slyly. "I saw, by the way. Your quad. You're gonna land it at Four Continents."

"Shh, don't jinx me," Leo says, but really when Guanghong says things like that, it always sounds like he can make it come true just by willing it.

And if it's not at Four Continents, then it'll be Worlds after that. Leo's looking forward to every minute of this season, and every minute of it that he can spend in the same time zone as Guanghong.

 

**I Want to Write You a Song - One Direction** (2:59)  
_I wanna write you a song, one as beautiful as you are sweet  
So any time I'm gone, you can listen to my voice and sing along_

 

"This is the worst," Guanghong says, downcast. The first Skype after summer's end is always the worst, both of them cranky and depressed, Guanghong jet-lagged and Leo sleep deprived.

"It really sucks," Leo agrees. He doesn't even have the energy to sit in his chair, so he's thrown himself down on his side across his bed. Guanghong is in bed too, with his arm thrown over his head like he's having the vapors. "I can't standing knowing it's going to be months before I can touch you again."

"The worst thing," Guanghong complains, "is that I tried to get myself off this afternoon so I could take a nap and all it did was make me sad!"

Leo wants to laugh and cry at the same time because it's so true, and it's the absolute worst. Now that they've filled in nearly all the gaps in their experience with each other, being apart feels exponentially harder, especially right at the start. "Right? It just makes me miss you way worse. Phichit sure didn't mention THAT side effect when he was dishing out his little talk about condoms and bananas."

"What were you thinking getting sex advice from Phichit in the first place?" Guanghong demands. Leo says ruefully that he doesn't even know, and both of them laugh, some of the tension dissolving. "Some day do you think we'll be able to do a lot less Skype and a lot more of the other thing?"

They've never talked about it, what's going to happen after this, if anything is going to happen when Leo (it's sure to be Leo first) starts being less competitive. Leo isn't in the mood to talk about it seriously now, but it's true that at some point they're going to have to start.

"I hope so?" Leo looks away. Nope, it's still too hard to talk about. "Is it awful if I don't want to think about this part ending either? What would you even love about me if I weren't skating?"

"Probably everything," Guanghong says, and his voice is flat, but Leo knows he means it. Guanghong can always make him feel a little better, even when they're sitting around complaining.

"Thanks. I can come choreograph for you. We'll master your adult image yet."

"I seriously hate you," Guanghong says, not meaning a word. He flops over onto his side, shifting his netbook to mirror Leo's position. "Speaking of adult images, you know we don't exactly have to wait months for all the things, right? Some guy I like a lot tells me the internet is pretty weird."

That gets Leo's attention quick enough. "Yeah? I've got nothing but time over here."

"It's three in the morning over there," Guanghong says, rolling his eyes. Leo shrugs a shoulder. It's so hard to care when Guanghong is ruffled and dark-eyed in front of him, right in front of him and still completely out of reach. Watching him through the glass of his laptop screen will make some things worse and some things better, and Leo's willing to try anything.

"I'm in if you are," he says. He doesn't mind trying every bad idea, if it's with Guanghong.


End file.
